I agree with John that Primus would be a great choice for a narrative, but I gotta throw my hat to Mark Griffin. Always on the cusp of breaking out but somehow limited because of his brother, Robby. That must have an interesting story.

Also, going back to a couple of narratives ago, is Robert seriously sick or something, like cancer?

Also, going back to a couple of narratives ago, is Robert seriously sick or something, like cancer?

No, he doesn't have caner or any severe physical illness. In my head, Robert has depression -- and while it is mostly under control, occasionally its a day he cannot win. The wrestling business seems to attract a lot of people with depression (and other mental health issues) as a potential outlet for them and I thought it might be a nice little tidbit for Robert. Also, as someone who works with, lives with, and experiences, all kinds of mental health things, since he is my first person perspective character it seemed like a natural fit. It's not going to be something that is heavily referenced moving forward, but it was a piece of the puzzle I wanted to include.

Quote:

Originally Posted by John Lions

I'd honestly like to see a piece on Primus. He's been such a big part of RMW for years now, but he hasn't had any narrative love. He also seems like the kind of guy that doesn't really "fit in" with the rugged, old school "Rocky Mountain" style so seeing him thrive there and his view on things would be interesting to say the least.

Then Primus you shall have!!

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Originally Posted by MisterRomanini

I agree with John that Primus would be a great choice for a narrative, but I gotta throw my hat to Mark Griffin. Always on the cusp of breaking out but somehow limited because of his brother, Robby. That must have an interesting story.

Well the Anvil will get some narrative love.

Quote:

Originally Posted by KnowYourEnemy

February Malaise -- who manages The Devil's Rejects -- the stable I imagine embodies RMW's "free spirit". What led her to be involved with these rough and tumble bikers?

Oh KYE pulling out one I didn't expect. But I like it! Some exploration into Miss Malaise. You will get it!

He was World Champion now. He had done it. He had climbed the mountain. He was destined to be a star. He was supposed to be a star. He was six-feet-four inches. Three hundred fifteen pounds. He had been a stand out defensive end for the University of Southern California. Three years as a starter. He thought was going to go pro into the NFL, but he had the opportunity to go into wrestling, his true love. He got signed to the Supreme Wrestling Federation’s developmental Rhode Island Pro Wrestling almost immediately. He moved to Providence. It took him just over two years to win his first championship -- the Rhode Island Heavyweight Championship. The top championship in the company. He held the title three times. He won the tag team titles -- and then he got the call to come up to the big leagues. He was going to New York. The concrete jungle where dreams are made of. He believed Jerry Eisen when he told Primus he was going to build the organization around him. He was the young machine. He was legitimate. You could believe Primus. He lasted just over a year and a half. Just over a year and half of doing nothing. He lost twenty-seven times in his year and a half on the main roster. Only had four victories. Thirty one appearances. He was just supposed to make other people look good. Jerry had lied. They didn’t believe that he was going to be a superstar. They didn’t believe in him.

So it didn’t come as a surprise when they didn’t offer to extend him. They weren’t going to keep him. They just wanted to use someone who looked so impressive to put over the rest of their roster. He had to lose to Monty Tresarde. Everest. Big Smack Scott. It was too much for his ego. He was a proud man. He was supposed to be a star. So he was relieved when he didn’t have to turn them down -- but he expected Total Championship Wrestling or United States Pro Wrestling to offer him a job. He could be an asset. None of them called. None. Robert Oxford did. It was a style that Primus didn’t expect himself to be in. Old school. Slow, physical matches. An emphasis on realistic athletes. It was different from the Eisen philosophy. There did not need to be over the top characters or over the top angles. Just men in the ring proving themselves to be men.

There was one other thing. Primus asked Robert what he had planned for him. What did Robert expected. Robert had just smiled and reached into his wallet. He pulled out a wad of cash and just said, “Money, big fella. Money.”

That was enough for Primus. His first match for Rocky Mountain Wrestling? Winning the Heavyweight Championship. He spent fourteen months as Heavyweight Champion. Ten defenses. Then he went and fought a professional mixed martial arts fight -- to prove he was a tough as they come. He had been back and picked up where he left off. World Heavyweight Champion. He had done it. It had been twenty-seven months since he left the Eisens. No one had called his phone. Not Pee-Wee or Ricky. Not Packer or Sanchez. Not The Stones. Not the Decolts. Not Tatsuko or Inuaki. Not Ibanez or Rodriguez. Not Kikakkawa. No one. He had so much to offer. He knew that, but was becoming increasing frustrated at the lack of calls. He had torn up the independents. He was working full time for Robert and Larry. Two different sides of the country. He was The Evolution of the Perfect Athlete. The Evolution of Professional Wrestling. It wouldn’t be long now… He knew that… He appreciated everything Robert had done for him, but he also wanted more. He wanted the whole wrestling industry to see him as the standard. He wanted to be recognized for what he was. Until then, he was going to continue to put the work in. Twenty-seven months away from the mainstream. When he returned, it wouldn’t be to do jobs like he did for the Eisens. It would be to be the man. He knew that.

I agree Primus would be a good choice, but I will throw out the name of the guy I picked on early. He has a new render, a nickname and now has a few wins. How about a narrative on the hard working guy that makes other look good? Of course I’m talking about the George South of RMW, “Relentless” Wesley Browning

great stories as always Historian, in regards to more narratives, I am interested to see narratives with multiple people. How about the Devil's Rejects for example. I think it would be fun to see them interact with each other.

great stories as always Historian, in regards to more narratives, I am interested to see narratives with multiple people. How about the Devil's Rejects for example. I think it would be fun to see them interact with each other.

Another vote from me, loved the Louis stuff and want to see more of the biker graduates

Co Main Event
Ten Man Tag Match
Forty-Five Minute Time Limit
The Islands [Ekuma, James Adams, Weatherfield, The Cummos] versus The Samoan Mafia [Samoan Demolition, Samoan Destruction Inc., and Charger Siaki] w/ StreetzI like Streetz even though he has not said or done much. I’d also nominate him for a profile some day as we know so little about him

Special Attraction
Singles Match
Thirty Minute Time Limit
Number One Contender to RMW Can-Am ChampionshipBlue Tiger versus Toma w/ StreetzI know the Blue Tiger won the rookie tourney in an upset but I’m still not convinced he is the goods. But because the Can-AM champ is a heel I’ll reluctantly go with the animal farm guy

He pushed the chest press up and held for a count of five. He brought his arms back and pushed forward again. Then a third time. His eyes were narrowed and focused. Diligently moving through chest day. He took his workouts seriously. He was in a business that took bodies and the physical appearance seriously, so he wanted to be in the best shape he could be in.

Mark had goals. Goals of being Heavyweight Champion, or better yet, World Champion. He was a talented wrestler. He had been a sensational wrestler as an amateur. He was thick and powerful. He was hard to move, hard for opponents to lift. He was a master of the gut wrench and the half nelson. He had taken those fundamentals to the House of Stone, where he had been personally recruited by Dan Stone Jr. He had been at the Canadian National Championship when he was approached by the greatest Canadian wrestler of all time. So he trained. He took training seriously. It had been ingrained in him from a young age. He took anything athletic seriously. He was a good camp-mate. He was the stud student of his class. Graduated to the main roster. He lasted a little while before budget cuts cost him his contract.

So he landed in Rocky Mountain Wrestling where he has been a stalwart competitor. While Mark has wanted to be a solo star, he has been forced to team with his little brother. He loved Robby, he never wanted to be accused of not loving his little brother -- but Mark was destined to be a star. He knew it. So he finished his last set and got up. He toweled off his machine and walked across the room. He walked past the training ring where Riley was putting the beginner’s class through their paces. He walked to the closed door of the promoter and booker of the whole operation. He knocked.

A voice from the other side called out. “Come in.”

He pushed open the door and stepped inside. Robert Oxford sat behind his desk. Glasses on his face, his eyes looked up from the paperwork in front of him. “Mark. Hello. What can I do for you?”

“Do you have a few minutes to talk?” Mark asked.

Robert nodded and motioned to the chair across from his desk. Mark stepped towards it but did not sit. “What’s on your mind, son?” Robert asked as he leaned back in his own chair.

“I wanted to talk to you about how I’ve been used lately. I know you’ve needed me to be in the tag division. I’ve helped bring Robby along. I’ve been a good tag team competitor, but I feel I’m getting lost in the shuffle. I win enough that my momentum is good. The crowd likes me. I feel like I’ve gotten much better in the ring than when I came here, but I’m not breaking out from the pack.”

Robert nodded again and reached for his glass of water. He took a long drink. “And what would you like to do?”

“I’d like to get in the mix. We need strong faces here. Primus. Riley. The Rejects. They need strong contenders. You’ve got Clyde, but who else? Logan has been touring with PGHW. If you believed in Lenny or Chill or Fro they’d be in a different position than they are now. They’re just floating. I think I could be a major player for us.”

Robert did not say anything. He just digested what was said.

“I’m not saying I want to stop teaming with Robby. I love my brother. I love my team with him. But I think I can be more. Ekuma and James look primed to be your number one babyface team. The Diaz’ will be back in the mix. Just… Give me a shot. That’s all I’m asking for.”

Robert nodded slowly and took another drink of his water. “So, you’d like the opportunity to be a top guy.”

Mark nodded. Standing at attention. Standing like a man who was serious about himself. “Yes. I would.”

Robert scratched at the back of his neck. He stared at the ceiling for a long moment before looking back at Mark. “I was thinking that you should get an opportunity anyway, but I like seeing this hunger. That’s what this business is about. You’ve got to make your desires known. I’ve got to finish up a couple of storylines we’ve got…. But I’ll give you a shot, Mark.”

“Thank you.” He reached out a hand towards Robert. Robert shook it.

“It’s up to you to make the most of it, kid.” Robert said as Mark turned to leave. “Get the door behind you.”

Mark walked out and took a deep breath. Exhaling slowly. That went better than he expected. Now he just had to tell Robby to expect more singles matches in the future. That would be a… fun… conversation...

Quote:

This narrative was for MisterRomanini who requested to see some from Mark. He may occasionally pop up in some other narratives as well. I don't know if he will be a heavily featured narrative player, but I will try to give him some more love.

Marjorie Oxford looked again at the email sent to the official Rocky Mountain Wrestling email address. It was a public email address that received all sorts of email. Fan mail. Some hate mail [for heels, for the occasional match decision and for trolls who just wanted to hate]. Occasionally, there were people looking to get booked. People who thought they had what it took. She tended to delete those emails right away. Rocky Mountain Wrestling was a professional organization. They had an LLC for tax purposes. They had an accountant. They had local television. They had an advertising and marketing budget. They made merchandise. They had a school and a building. They weren’t some fly-by-night outlaw show running in the parking lot of a car dealership. They weren’t a mudshow running in a dirt field somewhere. So she couldn’t just pass on guys who had no business in a ring to her dad. She wasn’t even in charge of hiring talent. She was in charge of production and social media. She hired cameramen and gaffers and grips and sound engineers. She directed the show. She edited the show. That was her job.

But it was late and she was lonely. Life had not been the same since KC left. She wasn’t really ready to date again -- even though it had been several months since he had moved back to Japan. It had left Marjorie lonely and broken hearted. She’d drank a few too many bottles of wine -- spent a little more time doing Hot Yoga than she had done before -- and maybe even smoked a joint or two. It was legal in Colorado, after all.

On this night, she was sitting in her living room eating leftover Chinese food and checking emails for the work account. Lisa was out. Probably over at Riley’s RV doing whatever it was two people do in an RV. Marjorie couldn’t understand why Riley didn’t rent an apartment or a house. Lord knows he could afford it now. He was getting double pay checks -- one for his in ring work -- and one as the assistant head trainer of the booming Rocky Mountain School of Wrestling. She stumbled on an email. It was from someone calling themselves “February Malaise.”

She clicked on it. It had a Cover letter and a resume -- the resume did not include any professional wrestling experience but it did include a background in dance, music, and acting. She had multiple headshots -- professionally done headshots -- not just out back in front of a building in some cheap wrestling gear they pieced together at Dick’s or Big Five. It also had several videos attached.

One video was of a dance solo. Marjorie watched it closely. The woman featured in the video, presumably February, looked to be a talented dancer. Graceful but capable of specific, target motions.

Another video was a singing video. She had a nice voice -- not a voice that would ever sell records -- but a voice that was good enough she could have probably gotten studio sessions as a backup singer. A third video was an acting reel. It was mostly local commercials for places in her hometown, something that looks like it was probably a college student’s film thesis. Marjorie knew actors -- had directed them for her own degree. February had some skills. She was pretty without being so attractive it looked fake. She had good energy on screen. Good awareness. Listened instead of waited for her opportunity to say her lines.

The fourth and final video started with February speaking directly to the camera.

“Hello staff of Rocky Mountain Wrestling. There was not a direct email address listed for Mr. Oxford and he does not have social media -- so I figured this was the best place to send the video. I am looking to get involved in the world of professional wrestling. I see myself ideally being used as a valet or personality ala Emma Chase before she became a commentator. In this email, I’ve attached samples of myself in three different fields. This final video will be my attempt at a promo. I know I have work to do to get passable, but hopefully you will see that I take this seriously…”

The video continued into an obviously recorded-at-a-separate-time video where February stood in front of a black sheet and talked. She was clearly channeling a mix of Lisa Bowen and Emma Chase. She had done her homework. She had prepared. This was not the normal person that Marjorie just deleted. This girl looked professional. This was someone Marjorie would bring to her father…

[The Next Day]

“I’m telling you, Dad, we should bring here in.” Marjorie said emphatically. Her father had just watched the videos she had provided and scrolled through the headshots.

“Why would she do? We don’t need anybody else. Lisa has Bowen Services. Streetz has the Samoans. What other managers do we need? I don’t want to pay to have a hundred managers on the card. That’s what bankrupts companies.” Her dad replied. It was a logical question. He wasn’t being argumentative. She knew that. He was trying to teach her. She’s pitching a hire -- and a hire outside of her department. She had to pitch her right.

“I think she would make a good fit for the Rejects.” She said. She had prepared that answer. She had thought about it all night and all morning on her way here. How she would use the young lady.

“Why? They’re a group of four burly bikers. What do they need her for?”

“A heater. They’re a biker gang. Biker gangs all need a good lookin’ chick with them. A biker babe.” She said before continuing. “Look at all of the pop culture references of Biker Gangs. There is always the old lady or the girl in cutoff shorts and black leather boots. Look at the Rejects. They’re all big and tattooed and mean looking and they get great heat for us -- but how much more heat would they get if they had a good looking blonde in tight leather or cut offs helping to distract the babyfaces?”

Her dad took a long moment to respond. She wasn’t sure if he would go for it. He didn’t really use a lot of sex appeal. Lisa was attractive and played a seductress, but she didn’t flaunt her body as a way to distract babyfaces. She was portrayed as a very intelligent woman who used her feminine guile to get her way and keep a stable of monsters. Streetz was a dude and he was a hustler. Like a young Carl Batch. What she was pitching was decidedly different than what her dad usually went for.

“Alright.” Robert said. “But this is your hire. You call her. You make the offer. You work with her. She’s your project. You’re going to be her wardrobe stylist. You’re going to direct her. If she succeeds, it is going to be partly because of your help. If she fails, it’s going to be partly because of you.” He looked at her.

She nodded. “I understand. Thank you.” He was being fair. She pitched a hire. She had the angle for her. It was going to be up to her. It would sound harsh to some people who did not understand -- but she understood. This was an opportunity. An opportunity for her to show she could do more than just call camera switches and shots. She could input creatively. She could play a part in booking decisions. This was her chance. She wasn’t going to blow it.

She walked out of his office and pulled out her cellphone. It took her a couple of seconds to dial the number. “Is this February? This is Marjorie Oxford with Rocky Mountain Wrestling… I’d like to talk to you about coming to work for us…”

Quote:

This particular narrative was because of the request from KnowYourEnemy to find out some more about February Malaise. She will be featured in more narrative work as I further develop the Devil's Rejects.